


Victory in Defeat

by nflove



Series: The Universe's Masterplan [2]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Late Night Conversations, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27373543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nflove/pseuds/nflove
Summary: Odell's recent tweet inspired me: "Sometimes I wonder if I want this shxt too much"a.k.a the aftermath of Odell's injury.
Relationships: Odell Beckham Jr./Jarvis Landry
Series: The Universe's Masterplan [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999477
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	Victory in Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> This injury really fucked me up, but anyway... hope this helps. There's a few references to Part 1 in here so you might want to read that first, but not 100% necessary.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpMxWIlX0HE THEIR HUG AT 1:58 OMGGG

Jarvis stood shoulder to shoulder with Baker and Odell in the tunnel. The fabric of Odell’s jersey tickled his arm as the wind whipped outside. He tightened the velcro on his gloves, clenching his hands in anticipation.

“Huddle up,” Jarvis said, the rest of the offense gathering around them. “Y’all ready?”

“Yessir!!!!” came a cheer from the rookie Harrison Bryant.

“This our time! Y’all feel it? This the FEELIN’! This what we train for! This what we chase. We LIVE for this shit! We gon’ go out there and we gon’ fight for each other for 60 minutes. And we not gon’ stop ‘til we get a dub. You hear me? Now let’s show ‘em who’s house it is, aight? DAWG POUND!!”

The smoke shot out ahead of them as they rushed the field. Odell rocketed out of the tunnel, head tilted toward the sky, screaming as the loudspeaker boomed “HERE COME YOUR CLEVELAND BROWNS.” Jarvis followed closely behind him. There was something electric about these moments, something difficult to put into words. It ran deeper than the pure adrenaline; years of work, sacrifice, and effort in order to be able to perform on this stage in front a crowd who craved victory deeper than anyone after being deprived of it for decades. Nothing compared to that thrill.

The opening kickoff went to the Bengals. They strung together a few short passes, then hit a deep one to Thomas on the sideline, and another to Boyd, putting them at 1st and goal. A short pass to Boyd got picked off by BJ Goodson and suddenly the Browns were rolling. What could have been a Bengals touchdown was now an opportunity. Odell clapped Jarvis on the back as they jogged out onto the field, “let’s do this shit.”

Baker handed it off to Kareem to open the drive with a 6 yard gain. The next play, Odell lined up on the right to run a go route. He tore downfield, creating space. Baker heaved the ball up, but it came down short, dropping right into the cornerback’s hands. Odell turned to make the tackle, when suddenly he felt a searing pain in his knee.

Jarvis saw him down instantly. Even as he ran his routes, Jarvis had a superhuman awareness of where Odell was on the field. It was the type of grasp that developed only through years of playing together, an ability to telegraph each other’s movements so carefully, an understanding of how to stretch defenses, of how to create opportunities from each other’s subtlest stutter-steps and head-fakes. Jarvis sprinted through the celebrating Bengals secondary and knelt down beside Odell.

“You good?” Jarvis asked, helping Odell remove his helmet.

Odell’s pained expression said it all. His breath was coming out uneven, both hands clutching his knee.

Jarvis gingerly brushed some turf pebbles off of Odell’s neck. “You think you can stand up?”

Odell shook his head, gritting his teeth.

“Shit, okay.” Jarvis waved over the injury staff and stepped back. As Odell was lifted to his feet by the two sideline staffers, Jarvis watched him walk off the field. His eyes followed Odell – the bright orange 13, the patterned custom cleats, the strong, nimble arms slung helplessly around two strangers – until the little spark of blond disappeared into the darkness of the stadium tunnel.

Jarvis’s heart was heavy for the rest of the half. The previously buzzing stadium was now quiet; everyone understood the gravity of Odell’s absence. Jarvis reeled in a few passes, but only felt the wound intensify when O’s congratulatory handshake or chest bump was missing. Every hit Jarvis took inflicted a pain deeper than the physical, like each play without Odell was slowly sucking life out of him.

When the clock expired, they headed into the tunnel for halftime. Coach had some pointers to share with the team – lineup adjustments and remarks on the tendencies of the Bengals’ secondary. But Jarvis knew what he had to do. As soon as he entered the locker room, he found Odell sitting on the bench in front of his locker. He had changed into a t-shirt and shorts and was scrolling through his phone. Sitting there without the pads or the helmet, he looked fragile. His fingers moved slowly over the screen, his eyelashes cast swooping shadows over his cheeks. A few drips from the ice pack taped to his knee crawled down his leg, tracing the lines of his tattoos.

Jarvis took a seat next to him and looped an arm around his shoulders.

“I love you.” He whispered. “How’re you doin’?”

Odell switched off his phone and set it aside. “Don’t worry ‘bout me.” Odell needed to cry; Jarvis could hear it in his voice.

“I can’t help it.” Jarvis admitted, wanting so badly to kiss him. 

They fell silent, Odell scooting closer to Jarvis; the little gestures like that meant so much more in the locker room where affection had to be muted. Jarvis concentrated on Odell’s breathing as coach’s words hummed in the background. Something about his presence was grounding; it confirmed that he was still here when the stadium tunnel had seemed to suck him away into another universe. But as much as it was grounding, it was also overwhelming. The heat from Odell’s neck on Jarvis’s arm, the feel of O’s ribs through his worn t-shirt, pressed against Jarvis’s side – the simplest contact threatened to bring Jarvis to tears. He bowed his head to recover from the intensity of the emotion before giving Odell’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze as the players gathered to head back onto the field.

“Shit, I gotta go back out there.”

Odell handed Jarvis his helmet, “Here, wear mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Odell nodded, “I might not be out there witchu, but I’m wit you. Know that.”

Jarvis slid Odell’s helmet over his head. It felt warm and familiar. The scent of Odell’s shampoo clung to the lining. Jarvis felt protected, like people couldn’t see him inside of this new armor. He buckled the chinstrap as he stood up.

Odell forced a small smile, “you like that?”

Jarvis nodded. They locked eyes.

“Go be great.” Odell said patting him on the roof of his helmet and Jarvis took off into the tunnel, wondering how Odell could manage to be so giving in a time like this. 

The Browns came out with a messy win, capped off by a ridiculous final drive with unparalleled consistency from Baker. When Jarvis reached the locker room, rookies were dancing and livestreaming as the screaming chorus of “Cleveland rocks” spilled out of Kareem’s boombox speaker. Shoulder pads and cleats were strewn across the floor as the guys exchanged hugs and cheered. Jarvis took a seat at his locker, taking off Odell’s helmet. He carefully returned it to Odell’s locker, where it would gather dust in days to come. He peeled off his jersey, hung up his pads, and listened apathetically as Coach made a speech about the “next man up mentality” of this team and how impressed he was that these second-string players had been able to make big plays when called upon. And it absolutely was impressive - no discredit to them, but Jarvis couldn’t bring himself to cheer for the win. The next man up rhetoric was hard to swallow when you loved the man down.

Jarvis found his car in the parking lot and flopped into the driver’s seat, closing the door and leaning his forehead against the steering wheel. He let out a long huff of breath before dialing up Odell.

“Hey, you home?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, I got a Uber.” Odell replied.

“Okay, I’m coming. You want anything? I could pick up food, or ice packs…”

“Nah, I don’t need nothin’, I just need you.”

Jarvis’s chest tightened. “I’ll be there soon, okay?”

Odell was silent but Jarvis could hear him rustling under some blankets.

“Y’wanna stay on the phone?” Jarvis offered.

“Nah, I’m tryna rest.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Jarvis switched off his phone and pulled out of the parking lot. As he wove through the Cleveland streets, he thought of Odell standing beside him in the tunnel pregame, filled with excitement and hunger, blissfully unaware that it would come to this. The lights outside became dimmer as Jarvis exited center city and made his way into East Cleveland. He used to like the anonymity that the city provided, but right now, it made him feel exceedingly lonely. He wanted sound in the silence, but didn’t think he could handle Odell’s playlist and didn’t want to mess with the radio presets. He sank deeper into his seat as the little glowing white dashes of the road slid by under his headlights.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, his hands were cold on the wheel. He rubbed them together for warmth, then hurried inside. Kicking off his shoes, he made his way to the bedroom to find Odell sitting up in bed. When Jarvis was concerned, he wore it clearly on his face; it was etched into the lines of his eyebrows, written across his eyes, his forehead, his lips. So when their gazes met, fresh tears welled up in Odell’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks. Jarvis felt like he had been punched in the gut, knowing Odell had been working so hard to hold this in at halftime. He pulled Odell’s head into his shoulder and enveloped him.

“I’m sorry ‘dell, I really am.” Words were so inadequate, but Jarvis couldn’t help himself. “I wish I could take it away, I wish…I could make it better, …fuck, it shoulda been me. I… fuck, I love you ‘dell. I love you.”

Odell clung to him as he raked a hand through Odell’s blond curls. After a minute, Jarvis pulled away and kissed the tear tracks on Odell’s cheeks. He took off his hoodie and crawled into bed beside him. Odell curled into his side and Jarvis rubbed his back soothingly.

“You looked good out there.” Odell said softly into Jarvis’s chest.

“You watched the second half?”

“’Course”

“Damn, O. You didn’t hafta do that.”

Odell shrugged and Jarvis pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

They fell into a comfortable silence, but Jarvis still ached for Odell. Jarvis was the only person who understood the depth of Odell’s desire, how much a season meant to him, and how much this took from him.

“Y’know,” Jarvis started, “I was thinkin’ ’bout when I fractured my foot freshman year, how the whole rehab shit just seemed so long, and I just wanted to be out there…you was what got me through it.”

Odell hummed softly.

“Bringin’ me food and shit, helpin’ me when I was limpin’ everywhere… ‘s crazy to think back on.”

“You gotta carry me now.” Odell said, half joking, half serious.

“You know I gotchu.” Jarvis sighed. “It hurts…”

“Phfff, yeah” Odell muttered.

“But when you feel this typa pain, it’s means you cared. Y’know? If you didn’t care, what would you be chasin’? Ya feel me?”

“Mhm.” O hummed in agreement. “You told me that same thing in college when we lost to ‘Bama.”

“Really? How you remember that?”

“That was the first time we slept in the same bed. That’s when I knew you was gon’ stick around.” Odell smiled slightly.

“Watchu talkin’ bout?”

“We didn’t even do nothin’, you was just huggin me, but I guess I just ‘spected you to jump once I fell asleep, so when I woke up and you was still there, I, it was…y’know.”

Jarvis let out a half laugh, half exhale, thumbing over O’s shoulder.

“Yknow, back then, I’da traded anything to get here.” Odell said softly. “Sometimes I think about it, how playin’ in the NFL – that _alone_ – was crazy to even think of. And playin’ for the same franchise…I didn’t wanna be testin’ my luck, y’know askin’ God for too much. And now all that, and gettin’ to be _with you_ with you…”

“Didn’t see that comin’” Jarvis smirked.

“Hell, I’da given both ACLs just to kiss you back then.”

“Sheeiit you wanted me that bad?”

“Shut up.” Odell said, butting Jarvis with his nose.

“Nah, but forreal, so would I.”

“Yeah?”

“’Course.” Jarvis replied, earnest. “I wanted you more than any of this.”


End file.
